Feeling alive...

This is what I love.

7:30am, dressed in capris and a tank top, pedaling away from our beautiful house with trees blossoming all over the lawn, headed the four miles into work. The sky is a soft, light blue with the wispiest white clouds spotting the expanse here and there. The sun is peeking up over the buildings, shining that perfect hue of goldenness. The street is dark grey and the buildings of downtown are brick and classy, little hippie shops strewn left and right meshing with the tall, old corner office buildings. Trees are everywhere, blossoms exploding like the ones at our house. Then onto State Street. Warmer and pedaling hard to make the lights in order so I don't have to stop. The bay is on my right the whole way in and on days like today, it's exquisite. The darker blue of the water against the bright blue of the sky, shining where the sun hits it, purple mountains backing it. I see this through the strip of thick green, leafy trees, and green grass two feet high because this is, after all, the northwest. The wind is cold on my skin, but I have warmed up inside, so it's the perfect blend. The breaths I inhale are crisp and clean, the way air is supposed to be. I can feel my heart running laps in my chest, the blood flowing through my body even though it's still early morning. I feel so alive.

Of course, not every day is like this. Take yesterday, for instance, when I arrived at work dripping like a drowned rat that had just ridden through a car wash. But even those days I'm learning to love as well, because they make me feel alive, too. Like I'm out in nature, experiencing nature, soaking it up...the way maybe it was intended to be experienced.

It just feels good. I feel good. And I like that I get to start my mornings out this way.